Everybody Knows!
by Lara-Van
Summary: AU story, season two. After the events at the spring formal last year, the entire student body of Smallville High knows Clark Kent's secret. Chapter Six is up, and Superman meets Fire!
1. Secrets, His and Lana's

A Note from Lara: This is the second in a series of AU stories, and I would highly recommend that you read the first one, "Revenge of the Meteor Freaks", before you read this. Its not required because I worked in a nice little recap, but it's a good idea.

* * *

Clark stared at himself in the mirror. How could he possibly go to school like this? Lois had seen him exactly twice since that night at the bonfire, and aside from that night, she'd never seen him without these thick-framed glasses. Both times, she'd laughed her head off and told him how ridiculous he looked. No one else would be so vocal about it, but he was quite certain everyone else would think he looked like a freak every bit as much as she did.

But Chloe had given his dilemma some thought, and had convinced him that this was the only way. If he wasn't willing to go masked, he'd have to come up with some kind of effective disguise, and this was the only thing she could think of. He owed Chloe a lot for it though.

He slipped the thick black frames off, and stared at his face. If he stuck with Chloe's plan, the face he saw now would soon be revealed to the world as the mysterious visitor from another planet. His hand quivered slightly. Even with the dress rehearsal he'd had at the Spring Formal several months before, it was a scary thought.

"It'll be alright, Clark," Martha Kent said from behind him. He turned to face his mother, and realized suddenly that he towered a good two feet over her. "I know your father and I... haven't exactly been happy about the idea of a dual identity," she continued. "Maybe we've been too afraid for too long. But the fact is... Clark, you're a man now. Sure, you're still young, only in high school, but I've noticed it ever since the Spring Formal. You're more mature, and wise beyond your years. That experience changed you. Whatever you decide, I wanted you to know that your father and I trust your judgement."

"Thank you, Mom," Clark said after a moment. His mother's blessing surprised him. Ever since he and Chloe had unveiled the idea for a secret identity, his parents had been dead-set against it.

He slipped the glasses back over his electric blue eyes, and walked downstairs. In the kitchen, he cracked a few eggs onto a plate, cooked them with his heat vision and ate quickly. He'd spent so much time debating the glasses issue, he'd nearly missed the bus. "Clark, don't inhale your food!" Martha scolded him. "I'm late. Tell Dad I said 'bye'," he said, and raced out the door. Martha smiled and shook her head.

* * *

Clark stepped onto the bus with some trepidation. Not all every student at Smallville High had been at the Spring Formal, and with a few exceptions, he had no way of knowing who had and hadn't been there. Everyone else seemed to recognize this, because although there were more eyes trained on him than there had ever been last year, there was none of the wild applause and cheering he'd experienced spontaneously over the summer every time he encountered more than three of his classmates.

He was quite certain that the enthusiasm his fellow students directed toward him hadn't died down yet, but at least they were smart enough to try and keep his secret from anyone who hadn't been there.

Clark scanned the faces watching him, searching for his friends. He breathed a soft sigh of relief when he spotted Chloe's familiar shock of platinum blonde hair in the back of the bus. He hurried down the aisle as quickly as possible.

Pete and Chloe were sitting together, taking up all the room in their seat, but Lana was alone in the seat across the aisle. He slid in beside her, and noticed as he did so that Pete and Chloe were holding hands. Clark hadn't seen a whole lot of either of them over the summer and he thought now he had something of an idea.

"Hi Lana," he said. "Good summer?" She nodded and smiled. "Whitney's moved to Grandville though. I miss him, but he's going to the community college there, so I can't really begrudge him for moving. So," she paused. "What's with the specs? Fashion statement?"

Clark smiled. "No. It was Chloe's idea actually. I'm going to... Well, you'll see. Most of the school will figure it out pretty quick. Or at least, the part of the school that was at the Spring Formal. You know, everybody who saw me..." He trailed away, not sure how to refer to the incident at the end of the previous school year. He saw acknowledgement in her eyes, and wondered what she was thinking.

Probably, she was remembering that tempest-tossed afternoon in the school gym. Eric Summers and a posse of meteor freaks out for revenge had ambushed Clark at the dance, revealed his secret to everyone in attendance, and locked the gym up so no one could get out. Then they had attacked Clark and while he fought back to give the other students a chance to try and escape, the meteor freaks had tried to kill him. They had very nearly succeeded.

Clark had been knocked unconscious and his breathing had stopped. A girl named Alicia Baker had revived him, but the crazed meteor freaks had sent Sean Kelvin to finish him off while he was still weak. However, a young woman named Kendra Hall had stepped forward alone to face the deadly ice-boy. She had refused to step aside and had sworn to defend Clark to the death. She had then revealed that she herself was a meteor freak and attacked Kelvin.

Most of the school had then followed her lead and fought back against Eric Summer's 'friends'. Many of them also proved to have meteor-induced powers. Once Clark had recovered, he assisted them in defeating the meteor freaks. But they made the mistake of leaving Justin Gaines for last. When the telekine had realized that he was the last one standing, he'd attempted to kill everyone in the gym by bringing the roof down.

Acting in desperation, Clark had launched himself from the floor, caught the slab of concrete in midair... and in that instant, discovered his greatest superpower- the power of flight. Afterward, everyone in the gym that day had promised to keep the secret of his powers and alien origin a secret.

Clark wondered if Lana was thinking about all this. It made sense that she would. Her beautiful face was strained, and he knew that the idea of _anyone_ with powers freaked her out a little bit. He hoped they could get back to the easy friendship they'd developed over the past school year.

Abruptly, the strained look on her face increased exponentially, and she blurted out, "Clark, Nell and I took a trip to Paris this summer." "That's great, Lana! But, from the look on your face... it's not. Why?"

Lana glanced around. "Clark... we've all kept your secret. Now I think I have a secret of my own. We can't... we can't talk here. Too many people. I don't want everyone to know. Could we talk about it... after school?" Clark nodded. He knew all too well what she meant.

Another Note from Lara: Okay, a nice short little chapter to start it off. Keeping it all within the Season One/Two circle of friends for now. Other characters I brought in for 'Revenge of the Meteor Freaks', and some new faces will show up in chapter two. Remember to review please!


	2. Full Disclosure

Clark sat down in first hour Chemistry, _very_ glad that he was in the back of the class. The stares he'd received as he walked into the classroom made him uncomfortable. After all, they weren't really ones to talk. Half of them were meteor freaks themselves!

Professor Andrews began his lesson on compound substances, and Clark took out his notebook. He didn't need to take notes- he had perfect recall- but it made sense to at least still go through the motions.

Suddenly, Vice Principal Tipton stuck her head into the classroom. "So sorry to interrupt, Andrews, but I need to speak to Mr. Kent for a moment," she said. Clark stood up and exited the room in the company of Tipton.

When they were a safe distance down the hall. "Mr. Kent, I want firstly to thank you again for saving all of our lives. And secondly, I have to ask you about the extent of your powers." "W-what?" Clark asked, stunned.

Tipton sighed. "It's just that, now that I've been made aware of the various... empowered... people in this school, I've decided that it's best to keep a file on the abilities of each student whose powers are known. For safety purposes only. The file will be destroyed when you graduate, of course. It's totally confidential, no one knows about it but myself."

Clark took a deep breath. This could make matters complicated. He didn't think it was a good idea for there to be a _file_ on this kind of thing. "Can I... call my parents first?" he asked.

Tipton bit her lip. "I... I suppose so. I'll expect to see you in my office at the end of the day." Clark nodded, and returned to his classroom.

The unpromising start to the day seemed to reflect on the rest of it. He managed to shatter the padlock on his locker. Lana seemed to be avoiding him. Pete and Chloe had had an argument on the bus and weren't speaking. He received endless good-natured teasing about his new eyewear.

Even P.E.- previously Clark's guaranteed hour he could zone out and unwind- was more or less hell. Everyone in his class had been at the spring formal, and somehow it had ended up that every one of them was (as Chloe called them) a "Class One" meteor freak. That being that they had 'offensive' powers. It made dodgeball incredibly interesting. Clark wished he could have played, but Coach Enderson, who oversaw the P.E. classes, had kindly asked him to sit out after the team captains got into a fist fight over whose team he would be on.

The one bright spot in his day was A.P. English. Lois was in A.P. English, and by some miracle (his words) or seriously bad karma (her words), they'd been seated right next to each other. She spent the entire class period kicking notes across the floor at him.

_Hey Smallville, want to blow off class next period?_

**No.**

_Why not?_

**I don't feel like it. **

_Translation: You're too damn chicken to bend the rules a little._

**No, actually, I have a meeting with the vice-principal after school today. **

_So? Skip the rest of the day, just come back for your little tete-a-tete with Tipton._

**How about I just stay in class? It's the first day of school, for god's sake! Besides, I'd like to stay on Tipton's good side. She's grateful to me right now. I'd like to keep it that way. **

_Okay, this is just ridiculous. You go_ beyond_ being a Boy Scout. You're like Jesus or something. Only nerdy._

**Yeah, because insulting me makes me so much more willing to do what you want.**

_Whatever, Smallville. So what's Tipton groveling at your feet for today?_

**First off, contrary to what Chloe believes, teachers _do not_ grovel at my feet. Second off... it's just something that happened last spring.**

_Ooh, something that happened before I came to Podunk. I'm intrigued... not._

**Well, this is all very fascinating Lois, but despite the fact that I can read all of Hamlet in one evening and recall every line the next morning, I highly doubt you can. Maybe you should stop writing to me and try and _focus_.**

_'Writing to you' makes it sound like I actually care. It's an easy assumption to make, to the untrained eye. However, those who actually know me would be able to tell that I'm simply finding the easiest and most subtle way to pass the time._

**Subtle? Lois Lane? What other universe have I been dropped into? And was the Lois here dropped on her head as a baby?**

_Very funny. Did they hand out irony the same day they were handing out fashion sense? I guess they must have, because it seems unlikely that you were out of town for _both_ days._

**Can you stop taking pot shots at me long enough to, you know, take these things called _notes_? You might have heard of them. They're these little words written down about what we learned today that help you _not fail_. **

_Yes, because you're being _so_ diligent in your note-taking._

**I have an eidetic memory. Taking notes is kind of unnecessary for me.**

_Oh well goody for you. Those un-gifted with perfect recall are going to go back to the not-failing aspect of being here._

**Told you so.**

_Shut up. Stop passing notes._

**Hypocrite.**

_Whatever._

Clark grinned as he read over the little scrap of paper that contained their scribbled conversation. He'd gotten a better idea of Lois's personality in the few meetings between them over the summer. She might be stubborn, tough and somewhat flighty on the surface, but it was incredibly endearing to his eyes.

Eventually, the bell rang for the end of the day. Clark hurried to the pay phone nearest to the classroom, fed a few quarters into the slot, and dialed.

After a few moments, his mother picked up the phone. "Listen, Mom? I have a kind of a problem." He listened to his mother's concerned response and sighed.

"Well, after... everything that happened last year... Well, Mrs. Tipton wants files on all the students with powers. She said that the files would be destroyed when we graduate and that she'll be the only one to know about them, but..."

"Yes, Mom. I know how risky it is. But since half the town already knows, is it really that dangerous?"

"No, none of that information, I don't think. Why would they care about Krypton?"

"Well duh. Confirmation that there's life on other planets. But if I stick with Chloe's plan, that's not really going to matter much, is it?"

"Just a list of my powers, I _think_."

"Okay. Thanks Mom. I'm glad you agree with me. Bye."

Clark hung up the pay phone. He had already decided that he should give the vice principal the information she wanted, but it wasn't his habit to make important decisions without checking with his parents first. He made his way to Mrs. Tipton's office, and knocked on the door nervously. He'd never been in the principal's office before.

"Come in," Tipton called. Clark entered, and stood awkwardly by the door. "I assume you've spoken with your parents?" she asked him, not looking up from the form she was writing on. He nodded.

"Alright then, let's get started on this," she said, motioning to the overstuffed chair in front of her desk. Clark sat, noticing that she still didn't look at him. "From what I saw at the Spring Formal, you have an impressive array of abilities, Mr. Kent. Most of the students I've interviewed today have only one. Could you give me a complete list?"

Clark took a deep breath and began, "Well, I've got super-strength--" "How strong are you, exactly?" Tipton inquired, _still_ intent on her papers. "Well, actually, I have no idea. I've never tested the upper limits of my strength. I can bend steel with my bare hands," Clark explained. Tipton nodded, scribbling something on the form in front of her.

"And," Clark continued. "I'm really fast. And no, I don't know exactly how fast. I break the sound barrier running. But I'm faster when I'm flying. I'd say that in space, I can actually approach light-speed."

Finally, Tipton looked up from her writing. Her dark eyes were wide as they stared into his green ones. "Flying?" she breathed. "And... in _space_?" she asked. "Isn't that--?" "Impossible? You'd think so, wouldn't you?" Clark said, resignedly.

"A-anything else?" the flustered vice principal asked. Clark nodded. "Then... go on," she said.

"Well, I've got X-ray vision; I can see through anything but lead. And then there's the heat vision- I can emit focused heat from my eyes. I've got super-breath; basically I can create gale force winds, and freeze things with my breath. And super-hearing. From space, I can hear everything happening on the planet."

Once again, Mrs. Tipton stared at him, her pen slipping from her fingers to clatter across her desk. Her open shock said everything she was apparently incapable of asking. "After the Spring Formal, I had... a lot to think about. I had kind of discovered the space flight by accident, so I went and hung out on the moon for awhile to try and work things out," he said, attempting to explain.

The look she gave him- half admiration, half caution- made him want to crawl out of his skin. Would people _always_ look at him this way? Would people always almost, _almost_ fear him?

"And the origin of your powers is--?" Tipton asked in a breathless whisper. "I'm extraterrestrial, and I _think _my powers are somehow solar-induced," Clark muttered. This slightly one-sided conversation was grating on his nerves.

Tipton sighed, and scribbled some more information on the piece of paper in front of her, and stuffed it in a file. "Mr. Kent, I know what kind of young man you are, and so I'm not going to give you the same lecture I've given all the other students who've come in here. I know your parents, and I know you. You're a good kid, and I trust you. I do, however, want to ask you not to flaunt your powers around school."

Clark nodded curtly. "As a general rule, I don't," he said. This whole thing was getting exasperating. He knew that full disclosure of this information was the right thing to do, but it was irritating. Spilling his secrets to a virtual stranger...

He stood up. "And now, if we're through, I'm going to go home and listen to the will of my dead father talk to me through my spaceship." Tipton nodded queasily and Clark left the office.

**A/N**: Well, what do you think? And no, I haven't forgotten about Lana's issue mentioned in the previous chapter. I'm bringing it back into play in the next chapter. In fact, it'll be factoring HUGE in the foreseeable future in this story; as will a mystery heroine. You know who she is, most likely. Guess who! I'll be interested to see who you all think I'm introducing in a chapter or two... (that means review and give me your guesses, hint hint)


	3. What Happened in Paris

His meeting with Vice principal Tipton had taken longer than Clark had expected, and by the time he reached the farm, the sun was hanging low in the sky.

He trudged up the front steps, and pushed open the screen door into the kitchen. "Hi, Mom," he muttered, slinging his backpack off his shoulder and leaving it beside the stairs. "Hi, honey!" Martha Kent called. "I take it you meeting with the vice principal didn't go so well?" Clark sighed, nodding in frustration. "Oh, and Lana came by a little bit ago. I think she's waiting for you in the loft."

Clark supersped up the stairs to the loft. Lana squealed when he suddenly appeared before him, and he felt his heart flutter faintly. He'd thought his feelings for Lana were completely dead, but he'd found that she still held a subtle enticement for him. He might be head-over-heels in love with Lois Lane, but there was just _something_ about Lana that interested him.

"Hi," Lana said, recovering from her startlement quickly. Her face settled into a dark, brooding expression.

"Hey. Lana, what's up? You look really worried," Clark said. She smiled half-heartedly, then sighed.

"Clark, you're good at keeping secrets, and I know I can trust you. Please don't tell anyone about this, okay?" Clark nodded, deeply concerned by the worry on her face.

"I mentioned that I went to Paris this summer, right? Well, Nell gave me an afternoon just by myself, and I went to this church. Actually, it was more of a cathedral. And there was this tomb, the tomb of a woman from the 1600's. She was buried as a martyr, but... burned as a witch. Her name was Margaret Isobel Thoreau. She was a countess."

"Lana, this is really fascinating, but why does it have you so worked up?" Clark asked. He might be far more intelligent than most people, but he had no idea where this was going.

"Well, I touched this symbol on her tomb. Then there was this huge light, and pain. I woke up the next morning in my hotel room, with no idea how I got there. And I had this." Lana turned, and lifted up the back of her shirt to reveal a large serpentine tattoo.

"Ever since then, I've been having these weird random blackouts. I'll be walking down the street, or working the latte machine in the Talon, and the next thing I know, it's three hours later, and I don't remember a thing I've done that whole time. I don't know what it's about, and it's really starting to scare me," Lana said. Her dark eyes betrayed her stark terror.

Clark's heart immediately went out to her. All this time, she'd been suffering, frightened, and too scared to tell anyone what was really going on. It made him feel terrible.

"God, Lana. That's awful! Is there any way I can help?" he asked. She shrugged.

"I just thought I should tell you. It seems like maybe I should let you know in case something... happens." She was working so hard to keep her face even, but her eyes were begging him to comfort her, to say that it would be alright.

He complied, pulling her into a tight hug. He stroked her dark hair gently and whispered, "It'll be alright, Lana. I promise."

Clark hoped it was a promise he could keep.

**A Note From Lara: Okay, okay, I know this is really short, but I'm realized that I hadn't updated this fic in a really long time (by my standards), so I'm going to just give you a little something to tide you over until I can get to the really meaty parts of this story... which, I promise you, will be pretty freaking awesome.**

**Again, I'm introducing a fairly well-known DC heroine in this fic. See if you can guess who it is. And trust me, I've seen reader traffic, I know how many people have read this, and I know how many of you have alert subscriptions. But I ALSO know how many reviews I get. **

**Come on people, you can do better than this... Try and guess which heroine is going to debut. Think of it as incentive to leave reviews. Sorry to have to resort to really pathetic begging, but... think of it as a game... And besides, a good review can really make writing the next chapter much more enjoyable out there. (hint hint hint)**


	4. The Suit

_"Now, Clark, if you'll turn over the stone to me..." Isobel purred._

_Clark shook his head, feeling his surroundings spin as his head wound throbbed. His hands were bound behind him, and blood trickled down his forehead. How had this happened? He might be vulnerable to magic, but he should have been able to handle Isobel. After all, she'd given him a weapon to defend himself. She'd wanted a decent fight. He shouldn't have obliged._

_Lana's beautiful face twisted with Isobel's vicious snarl. "The stones were not meant for you! They were not, they were not!" She seemed completely insane now. The power that roiled visibly behind her eyes had warped her mind beyond any repair._

"_They... they were..." he gasped. "My ancestors left them here..." He was teetering on the edge of consciousness. He had to convince her that he was telling the truth. "I'm the only survivor of my people... I'm supposed to retrieve them." Isobel's face registered nothing._

"_GIVE ME THE STONES!!" she screamed. Clark shook his head as firmly as he was able. _

"_You could have been my consort, Clark Kent," Isobel said sadly. Her expression was mournful. "This body I possess... Lana would have enjoyed that. You cannot deny that you also would have found pleasure in it." Suddenly, her face changed dramatically. Her jaw was set, and her eyes narrowed. "If you will not join me... then you cannot be permitted to live. I learned that to my cost once before. Chance saved you then... but there is no one to save you now. No one, Clark Kent. For all you were, all you could have been, I shall grieve. But you cannot be allowed to live."_

_Isobel's hands raised. Clark could see a flicker of Lana somewhere behind her insane eyes. Her mouth opened into a perfect little 'O'. "Cl... Clark..." she whispered. "I'm sorry... I can't... can't stop..." For just a moment, her eyes were Lana's again. "Clark... I'll be gone soon... she's too strong... I'm sorry..."_

_Then the purple luminescence swirled across the brown, and the crazed bloodlust burned through the air. "Morte!" she shrieked, pointing directly at Clark's chest. _

_His eyes closed as the bolt of violet energy shot straight toward his heart. This was it. This was the end. "SHAYERA!!" he screamed. The purple shine blotted out the world._

_--_

"SHAYERA!" Clark gasped, sitting up abruptly. He felt his head, his chest. They were smooth and blood-free. It had all been a dream, then. But it had been so... so... vivid. And what was that word he'd yelled? Who or what was Shayera?

He shook his head. He'd deal with it later. The real problem was... well... Lana's problem. Isobel Thoreau. Whatever had happened to her in Paris was seriously bothering him, so much so that all last week he'd begun having odd dreams about Lana... mixed in with Isobel Thoreau. What was that about?

Clark showered and dressed at superspeed. It might be Saturday, but he had chores to do.

And that wasn't all. His mother called to him as he was pulling on his standard blue T-shirt. "Clark?"

"Yeah, Mom?" he yelled back.

"It's ready," she said softly, depending on his superhearing to allow him to catch her words. Clark's stomach swooped in nervous anticipation. His mother had been working on this all week. Now that the world had gotten used to the idea of Clark Kent in glasses, it was time to implement Phase Two of Chloe's scheme.

Half of Clark wished that his parents had not concurred so whole-heartedly with Chloe's idea. If he hadn't had their full support, he wouldn't have gone through with this at all. But Chloe was right- it was the only way he could satisfactorily use what he'd been given and still live a normal life.

With some trepidation, he descended the stairs to the living room, where his mother's sewing machine sat on the coffee table. Martha stood next to the couch, holding a lidded box in her hands. She held out the package to him.

Clark took it. He hadn't been allowed to see this while his mother was working on it, and he'd faithfully held to his promise not to use his X-ray vision to peek. "So..." he said, trailing away, unsure how to continue. He opened the box tentatively.

Bright colors shone up at him. Yellow and red and blue, a lot of blue. Clark lifted the garment out of the box. A deep cerulean body suit with the symbol of the House of El emblazoned across the chest, and a long scarlet cape unfolded before him. "I... wow," he said. "Mom, thank you. But..." He smiled self-consciously. "Spandex?"

Martha smiled. "I was somewhat inspired by this "Bat" Man they've got over in Gotham. He goes about in rubber and spandex. Of course, nothing so dark for you. You're not a vigilante, Clark." Clark nodded.

"Oh, and Clark, there's something else," she added.

She reached around behind her and held out a pair of bright red boots. Clark blinked. "Well, I guess one thing's for sure. Everyone will be so distracted by the flashy colors, nobody'll notice Clark Kent's head sticking out the top," he said, smiling.

He took the boots from her. "Well, come on! Don't waste all my hard work. Let's see it on," Martha said. "Jonathan!" she called over her shoulder. "Jonathan, get in here! He's going to try it on for us!"

Clark didn't wait to hear Jonathan Kent's muffled reply. He supersped up the stairs, and pulled on the Suit. He wouldn't normally have worn something so... form-fitting... he supposed. But then, that was the point. It was a disguise. And once again, courtesy of Chloe's genius, it was the perfect disguise because it didn't look like a disguise. If he went out in public unmasked, no one would ever suspect that this strange visitor from another planet had another identity.

He descended the stairs slowly, and Martha gasped. Her son looked so... regal. Jonathan smiled as he entered the kitchen. The little boy they'd found and raised was growing up. The outfit would certainly be flashy around Smallville, but Jonathan had long since accepted that his son's destiny lay far beyond Kansas.

"Well," Clark said self-consciously, "I guess-- I guess I should... go."

Martha nodded as he gave her a tight hug. "Fly away, son. Make us proud," said Jonathan. Clark smiled at him, walked out onto the porch, took a moment to assess the necessary angle for takeoff, and bent his knees.

"And be home by dinnertime!" Martha called as he launched himself into the sky. Clark chuckled. That was so like his mother.

He rose through the air, mile by mile, until he had completely exited earth's atmosphere. He slowed, turned around and stared down at the earth. He could exist out here for days... months if he needed to. He had yet to figure out how long he could hold his breath. More than a week, he knew.

But that wasn't why he was here. That had never been why he was here. Jor-El and Lara had sent him away to save him, but more importantly Krypton had given him up, death had let him slip past it, for him to be a gift to humanity. He had realized it last year, at the Spring Formal. He could deny the bad things he ought to fix... or he could accept them and try to help. Clark didn't want to sit idly by while the world fell apart around him.

He closed his eyes and listened. From out here, he could hear everything. People speaking, cars, the wind, lions roaring across the savannah, alarm sirens...

Clark tuned into that sound in particular. What was happening down there?

"Look, we don't know how to disable it. Come on, you have to help us. Is there a self-destruct? We've got to detonate it before it reenters the atmosphere!" a man's voice was saying.

"No, no I don't think I will help you," said a younger voice. "It's Lionel Luthor's fault I lost my job, my family... Lionel Luthor is in Metropolis, and they do nothing to stop him. Evil like that shouldn't be left to fester. He's infected the whole city. The whole city has to die to prevent it from spreading across the world..."

Clark heard insane laughter, and then the panicked voice of the first man. "Okay, I get that you're pissed. But this? A nuclear bomb? Are you insane? Metropolis is the largest city west of the Mississippi, and you're going to nuke it!" Silence, then more crazed laughter.

Clark's eyes popped open. This was not good. He might be able to withstand a nuclear blast, but Metropolis was a lot less durable. Within seconds, he'd located the warhead in question. It had already reentered Earth's atmosphere, and was streaking toward the city. He hurled himself down towards it...

_--_

**_A Note From Lara: I know, I know. Not exactly the most original storyline- crazed person wants to get back at Lionel Luthor and does something extreme... like nuking a city. I was having a REALLY hard time coming up with a disaster big enough for the Man of Steel's big debut, but still localized. Earthquakes are overdone, the whole plane-falling-out-of-the-sky thing got ripped out of my hands by the makers of 'Superman Returns', and I really could not come up with anything else that wouldn't compromise my storyline._**

**_And so, I guess, now you've got your answer to 'who will the mystery heroine be?' Or at least, those who know who's who think you do. Sure, the person I subtly identified will show up, but there's a certain... green... heroine who's going to make her pseudo-debut in just a few chapters..._**

**_Sorry to be so random and confusing, but it's maddening trying to keep you interested without giving away too much. Now, I have one little conundrum I need to work out. Of course, our favorite alien is about to make his debut, and I haven't yet decided how the press is going to refer to him. Should he be 'Superman' or 'Superboy'? What do you think? Because I kind of hate the idea of calling him Superboy, it just sounds kind of lame. But at the same time, he's supposed to be, like, 15 or 16 at this point, so... But then again, on the show, he SO did not look like he was 16 in the second season... Just give me your opinions please!_**


	5. Superman

**A Note From Lara: Once again, I'm _so_ sorry about the long delays between updates. Things have been absolutely crazy. I barely have time to eat, let alone write fan fiction! **

**I just have one thing I feel I should explain before you read this. Kryptonians get their energy from the sun. The sun is basically a massive nuclear explosion. Therefore, I can only imagine that a nuke would be good for Kal-El. Far from hurting him, it seems to me that it would more than likely make him _stronger_, if anything, and all that pesky radiation would be absorbed into his body. Anyway, that's all I have to say on that subject.**

--

"Oh hell," Clark muttered under his breath. If he could even catch up to the nuclear warhead, he might be able to stop it, but that was a pretty big "if". It had already nearly reached Metropolis. He could see that the city had begun emergency evacuation, but they'd never get out in time. He could hear the collective sobbing of the city's millions.

He reentered the atmosphere and streaked through the sky, breaking the sound barrier. The atmosphere caught fire around him, he shot through the air so fast.

What kind of person would destroy a whole city, just to get back at Lionel Luthor? Sure, he was Lionel, he was nobody's favorite person. But killing twelve million people just to eliminate him? It was ridiculous, insane. Clark shook his head at the follies of mankind. What was with all the violence?

Clark halved the distance between himself and the small bomb, gaining with every second, but there was barely half a mile before they plunged into the heart of Metropolis, and he wasn't sure he could catch up in time. Straining every muscle to its limit, he put on a final burst of speed, rocketing down to reach out with one hand and seize the warhead.

Suddenly, he realized, they were amid the skyscrapers of Metropolis. Clark slowed his descent to a dead stop in the air, fifty feet from the pavement, clutching the deadly weapon. He could see people crowding the sidewalks, staring up at him in shock. He could see a small time counter on the bomb. It read 0.00.08. Less than a second before detonation. Damn. Not enough time to hurl it into outer space, and _definitely_ not enough time to disable it.

Acting instinctively, with no clue if this would even work, he curled his body around the bomb. He heard the faint click as the time counter reached 0.00.00. He closed his eyes. The nuclear warhead exploded.

It didn't really hurt. The wind was knocked out of him, and it became very difficult to maintain the fetal coil he had twisted himself into, but he managed and it didn't hurt. A muffled roaring filled the air. White heat tore through him, and he held tightly to the miniature sun contained within the circle of his arms.

Finally, it was over. Clark opened his eyes. Nothing remained of the bomb, and he was now several yards closer to the ground. "Wow," he muttered. He'd expected pain, at least. But his costume wasn't even damaged!

Clark dropped to the pavement, unsure what to do next. And then, as he looked around, a small fluttering of panic awoke in him. At least two hundred people crowded the sidewalks, and every last one of them was staring at him in open shock. What the hell was he supposed to do now? Chloe had suggested some kind of secret identity, but what should he say? How should he act?

Suddenly, a team of men in Haz-mat suits came pelting toward him at a dead run. Clark automatically tensed, unsure of their intent. Four of them paused as they drew nearer, but the fifth turned to them and said, "Come on, it's fine," in a disgusted voice. As he turned back to Clark, Clark could see through the sheet of clear plastic covering his face, that it was none other than Pete Ross's father. Tim Ross winked at him, acknowledging him and promising the protection of his identity with a single gesture.

"Uh... uh... sir?" one of the men with him asked hesitantly, "Um... you were just exposed to... uh... a lot of radiation. We should... um..." Another of them held up a Geiger counter. "Oh, yeah. Right. Do you mind?" he asked hesitantly.

Behind them, Clark noticed the citizens of Metropolis drawing closer, despite the barricades that had been hurriedly erected to keep them back. Wanting to get this over with quickly and get out of the situation which had suddenly become claustrophobic, he nodded. The man switched on the radiation-detection device, and ran it up and down Clark's body.

His eyes widened. "Oh my _god_," he muttered to his colleague. "He just contained a nuclear blast. The count on him should be _off the charts_, but... not even a blip. Nothing. All the radiation is just... gone." There was general shock writ clearly on the faces of the other four men. "He's clean!" Tim Ross called to one of the police officers working (and failing miserably at) crowd control.

At that, all the lingering doubts of the crowd, the universal fear of radiation poisoning, fell away and they surged forward, completely overwhelming the officers attempting to force them back. Clark could see many hanging back, or even fleeing outright in the opposite direction, and supposed it was to be expected. But of greater concern was the onslaught of humanity that was rushing toward him. Clark liked things quiet. This was... anything but. He'd learned to cope with the general admiration expressed toward him in Smallville, but dealing with one small town was a lot different than the population of a major city.

Clark panicked. With a leap, he cleared the heads of the crowds, paused a moment to hover a few feet above the people staring up at him, and soared away. He heard the people yelling behind him, and a few cheering as he disappeared into the sky.

He took a deep breath. Damn. He wanted to help, but whatever his parents thought, whatever Jor-El wanted, whatever Chloe said, he wasn't ready for this. He wasn't ready, he wasn't ready, he wasn't--

His superhearing picked up a distress signal from an oil tanker ship. From the sound of their garbled radio transmission, the outer hull of the ship had ruptured, and they were stuck on some kind of reef several miles from shore. If they were stuck there much longer, the inner hull would be ripped apart as well. He sighed, and changed course, streaking in a red-and-blue blur across the Midwest, over the Appalachian mountains, and then out to sea, searching with his super-vision to locate the ship.

Within moments, he had located it. Seconds later, he dove under the water, and grasped the underside of the boat, his fingers leaving deep gouge marks in the metal. He braced his shoulder against the ship and shoved...

The metal groaned slightly as the ship rose into the air. Slowly, steadily, he made his way toward the nearest port- a small fishing town in Maryland. Certainly not the ship's intended destination, but what could he do? He could hear the panicked voices of the men who crewed the ocean-going ship as they ran about on the deck, trying to figure out what was going on.

"_What the hell--? What's happening?"_

"_Gregor, what'd you do?"_

"_It's a fucking miracle. It's a mother-fucking miracle!"_

He grinned as they reached shore. He searched for an appropriate place to set the ship down. The water was too shallow here, and he doubted that the damaged hull would bear it in any case. Just dumping it on the ground in some random location also seemed counter-productive. They'd have to find a way to repair the boat, after all...

Finally, he located a shipyard near the edge of the town, that was just _barely_ big enough to contain the massive ship. He dropped down into the yard. Several men came rushing out of several outbuildings scattered around the yard. "Davey... are you _seein'_ this?" one of them gasped. The other nodded, apparently too stunned to speak.

"Hello," Clark called to them. "Do you have the capability to deal with a ship this size?" he asked. No point leaving the thing somewhere it couldn't even be repaired. The man who had spoken shook his head. "They do up at Millersburg though," he said in a strained voice. "Eight miles north of here."

Clark nodded and lifted off. The stunned silence he left in his wake simultaneously pleased him and saddened him. It was downright _funny_ the way people reacted to him. But at the same time, he didn't want people to be afraid of him. He frowned.

It took him some time to locate Millersburg, but once he had, he found their shipyard and deposited the ship safely where the equally stunned workers directed him. He lifted into the air, and as he drew level with the deck of the ship, he hovered for a moment. The crew stared at him. He saluted them jauntily, and soared off.

God, this was like... like... like being Peter Pan or something. It was... fun. Those men would've died, there would have been an ecological disaster if the oil had leaked. But they were alive and well, and the ship could be repaired. No harm done. Because one baby had survived the destruction of a faraway planet. He'd been wrong before. He _was_ ready for this. It might be hard, but that was just the point. It wasn't about him. It was about who he was, and how it could help everyone else. The rest of the world far outweighed his own indecision and fear.

--

It was getting late. Clark had flown all across the Midwest, and the eastern seaboard, helping everyone he could. Most of his time, however, was spent in Metropolis. The city just felt... It felt like a second home. And speaking of home... his mother had wanted him back in time for dinner.

He angled west, shooting off in the direction of Smallville.

Seconds later, he touched down in the front yard. Jonathan and Martha Kent were waiting for him. "Well," Jonathan said, the patented Kent smile spreading across his face, "You've certainly made your mark on the world." Clark shuffled his feet, but was unable to stop himself from mimicking his father's grin.

"Come on inside, son. We want to hear all about it," Martha said.

The evening was passed in a most amiable manner. Clark regaled his parents with stories of his triumphant rescues over dinner, and not long after he finished washing the dishes, Pete and Chloe burst in. Not even bothering to knock, they began shouting the second they caught sight of him.

"Oh my _god_, Clark, you actually did it!" Chloe shrieked, throwing her arms around him. Clark grinned even wider than before.

"Hey man, this is... this is freakin' cool," Pete said, once Chloe had released their Kryptonian friend. "Alright, so we heard about the nuke in Metropolis; it's been all over TV. But they didn't get any footage of you, and I know there's got to be other stuff. So come on, out with it, where've you been all day?"

Clark and his two best friends made their way into the living room, where Clark recounted again the events of the day. Chloe was appropriately awed, and Pete simply laughed. "Dude, you tied a mugger up in _what_?" he shouted at one point. Clark shrugged awkwardly. "A lamp pole. There wasn't anything else around... and I fixed it with my heat vision afterward," he said defensively. Chloe giggled. Clark couldn't stop grinning.

Martha and Jonathan Kent watched it all and smiled. Their son was more open and relaxed than they had ever seen him. This coming-out had been good for him. "I'm glad we encouraged him to try Chloe's idea," Martha said. "He was so unhappy last year, especially after Jor-El began to speak from the ship... I was beginning to worry about him." Jonathan smiled. He had been more concerned than he'd let on about Clark revealing himself to the world, but his son's immediate release, as if some great weight had been lifted from his shoulders, told him that he'd made the right choice in hiding his misgivings.

--

**I should have another chapter up by the end of this coming weekend. I can't promise more than that. But to keep the intensity building... challenges the Boy of Steel will face in the next chapter:**

**High school gossip, combined with typical Smallville weirdness. And some serious ribbing from the football team.**

**Isobel Thoreau.**

**And finally... who is the mystery DC heroine? (If you don't want to know, don't read.)**

**XXFireXX**


	6. Making Fire

**A Note From Lara: I tried to get this up as quickly as possible. I know you're all anxious to see Clark's classmates reaction to Superman. And yes, I know Whitney wasn't in high school at this point, so just assume he's an assistant coach of the football team.**

--

Clark rolled his eyes as he scanned the newspaper. The front page of the Daily Planet announced, in large block type: "Mysterious Hero Contains Bomb, Saves Civilians." Journalists from every newspaper across the country were speculating wildly about this 'Superman', as the reporter for the Planet had dubbed him. Some of them were even mostly right.

Stuffing the copy of the Planet into his backpack, he supersped out of the house, before stopping and speeding back to the farm to call goodbye to his parents. They grinned at him, still marveling at how much... freer... Clark seemed now that the secret was (sort of) out.

Sixty seconds later, Clark blurred into the school, dork glasses firmly in place. He slowed to a stop outside the Torch office, then walked at a normal human pace through the door, expecting to find Chloe and discuss the general reaction to his appearance.

Instead, he found Lois Lane typing furiously away on one of the Torch's rather outdated computers. "Oh," he said in pleased surprise. "I was hoping to find Chloe here."

Without even looking at him, Lois nodded. "I think she said something about talking to the principal about some article." She was still totally focused on the computer screen.

Clark furrowed his brow. "Um... Lois? What are you doing here?" he enquired.

"What's it look like, Smallville? I'm writing a story," she said, once again not even turning away from her work. Clark raised his eyebrows. "Um... okay?"

Finally, Lois turned away from the computer and looked straight into his eyes. "Chloe always told me that journalism was like this... this fire in the blood. I figured that was just normal Chloe weirdness, but...." She grinned, and Clark's heart turned over. "I may have... stumbled onto something. A story. I haven't finished my investigation but it's... it's amazing. The thrill of discovery and all that."

And with that, she turned back to the computer, and resumed her light-speed game of hunt and peck. Clark shrugged and exited the office.

As he walked down the hallway, his thoughts were occupied primarily by Lois. He'd had a heavy crush on her since practically the day he met her, but there was something about the intense, absolute focus he'd caught a glimpse of in those moments in the Torch office that touched something deep within him.

Lois Lane was a woman of many sides. On the surface she was the tough, flinty army brat. She was smart and witty and had a tongue that put razor blades to shame. This was just another of the millions of layers he was only just beginning to discover in her. Journalism must run in her family, for two cousins to be so obviously passionate about it. It almost inspired him, really...

So preoccupied was he that he didn't even notice Whitney Fordman approaching until he had nearly walked into him. "Hey, watch where you're goin' Kent!" Whitney snapped. Clark shrugged and muttered an apology.

"Hey, no worries, Kent," said George Mayson, one of Whitney's friends from the football team said, coming up behind him and clapping his hand on Clark's shoulder. "Whitney here's just jealous 'cause he's not the one out there containing nuclear explosions with his bare hands."

Clark gulped. "Uh... yeah," he said self consciously. "Hey everybody!" George called across the hallway. "It's Smallville's greatest hero!" And suddenly, the crowd around Clark was much thicker than anywhere else in the hallway.

"Hi, Clark," said Harmony Pearson, a tall brunette cheerleader, as she sidled up to him and draped herself across his shoulders.

"Uh, hi Harmony," Clark said awkwardly, gently trying to extract himself from her clinging grip. Harmony bit her lip and smiled flirtatiously at him through her long dark lashes. Once he'd succeeded in getting her hands away from him without being obvious about it, he turned to face the chattering crowd which had surrounded him. As soon as the masses of students near him realized he was actually paying attention to them, they immediately assaulted him with questions.

"Clark! Clark, what's with the S?" called somebody from the back of the crowd.

"It's, um, not an S," Clark pointed out. "It's my family crest. From, you know, Krypton." Several people in the crowd nodded, grinning, but it was the reactions of several others that had Clark fidgeting in discomfort. One or two people he could see had awkward, almost frightened looks on their face, as if the mention of Clark's home planet was an uncomfortable subject. And could he really blame them if not everyone was entirely uncomfortable with his extraterrestrial heritage? He'd seen the Alien movies- they were the most terrifying films he'd seen in his life, and stuff like that stuck with people.

"Well, look, I've got to go," Clark said, turning abruptly and walking down the hallway, trying very hard to ignore the dozen or so students who were trailing behind him like lost groupies. He silently thanked whatever architect had designed Smallville High and all its complicated twists and turns, which made if fairly easy for him to ditch his tails.

However, one persistent cheerleader- Harmony, he suspected, but he wasn't willing to turn around to find out- continued to follow him no matter what he tried to shake her off. As he was passing the third floor janitor's closet, a hand reached out and yanked him inside. The door slammed shut behind him.

"Yeesh, Clark! It's frigging impossible to find you without all your little wannabees hanging around!" Chloe complained. Clark snorted, nodding.

"I know. I've been trying to ditch Harmony Pearson for like five minutes," he said in agreement. Chloe raised her eyebrows.

"Well whatever. I mean... _Superman_? Really?"

Clark shrugged. "It was the reporter's idea, not mine."

Chloe thought about that for a minute, her chocolate brown eyes focused on Clark's blue ones. Finally, she said, "Okay. Anyway, we've got bigger fish to fry, at least for the moment. Last night, Lana told me she'd found the spell book of this Isobel Thoreau lady, and I haven't heard from her since. She's not in school, and she's not answering her cell phone. I'm getting worried; I mean, since Nell's had this new boyfriend, Lana hasn't really been herself, you know? So I was thinking that this was... a job for Superman." Chloe snorted as she said the name.

Clark glared at her. "Disdain _not_ appreciated. But I have study hall this period and I've got next period free, so I could try to go find her." The more he thought about it, the more afraid he became for her. After all, the strange blackouts she'd been having had only started once she'd had her ordeal at Isobel's tomb; it was obvious the events were connected.

Chloe nodded. "Thanks Clark. I'd better get to class. I've got Geometry this period, and math is _so_ not my thing. I can't really afford to miss it..." Clark smiled in acknowledgement and she hurried out of the closet. Clark followed her shortly afterward, hurrying unnoticed out of the school.

Or... _almost_ unnoticed. As he was crossing the parking lot- at a human pace for once- he heard running footsteps behind him. "Hey Clark!" called a female voice. "Where we goin'?" Clark turned to see who was following him, he saw Kendra Hall, the meteor-powered girl who had saved his life during the Spring Formal last year.

"Hi Kendra. Long time no see. But as far as I know, we aren't going anywhere. I know I'm trying to find Lana. She may or may not be missing, and Chloe's worried so..." He shrugged.

Kendra grinned at him, her white teeth standing out in sharp contrast with her dark skin. "Always the gallant hero, aren't you? Well then, let me help. Lana and I were good friends back in grade school, I might be able to figure out where she is." Clark paused to consider that. He'd have to move slower if Kendra was with him, but she made a good argument.

"Okay," he said.

--

_Two hours later..._

"Oh this is _hopeless_," Kendra moaned. She and Clark were standing in the middle of Schuster's field, at the base of the windmill Lana sometimes visited. "We've been at this forever! I swear we've searched half of Smallville, and I can't think of anywhere else Lana would be hiding. And she was always such a regular person, it seems really weird that she'd be anywhere besides her usual spots."

"Well perhaps that's because Lana's not here anymore," came a predatory voice that sounded eerily like Lana's. Clark and Kendra whipped around. Lana was standing behind them, holding a thick leather-bound book in one hand, and with her eyes glittering an eerie purple.

"Lana?" Kendra asked tentatively.

Lana's mouth twisted in a wicked smile. "Nu-uh, precious. I'm Isobel. Oh, Lana's in here somewhere, but I don't intend to let her out any time soon." Kendra's eyes widened, and her mouth opened in a small 'o' of surprise.

"What do you want?" Kendra asked.

Isobel smiled. "Well that's simple. I've traveled across thousands of years, searching for a host- little Lana here- who would be suitable to channel my magic powers. Now that I've found her, I intend to seek out three stones that lead the way to ultimate power."

"And as for _you_ my little Child of the Stars," Isobel purred to Clark, "I think I like you a great deal." She wrapped her arms around Clark's neck, kissing his jawline. "I can sense the stones on you- you are destined to help me collect them."

"Uh, Lan-- _Isobel_?" Clark said, jerking away from her. "I don't think so. You're going to come back with me now, and you're going to let Lana out." Isobel/Lana's eyes narrowed in displeasure.

"Well, if _that's_ how you feel about it..." she said dangerously. "... I guess there's nothing I can do about it. Except, of course--"

Raising her hand, she chanted a brief Latin phrase, and a bolt of violet energy shot from her palm and struck Clark in the chest. Clark didn't expect it to cause him even the slightest injury, but was surprised to find himself knocked backward and driven into the ground, winded and bruised.

"Damn," he muttered.

"Ooh, dear. I suppose I underestimated your power, farmboy. No matter," Isobel said. Once again, she raised her hand, and the air about her was filled with crackling violet light. Her eyes closed, and when she opened them, the same deadly energy blazed in twin beams from her eyes, searing into Clark's chest.

Clark yelled as the purple fire bored its way through his skin, burning and tearing, ripping his life away. In shock, he saw that a trickle of blood was running down his chest. The fire blazed, pushing him back farther and deeper into the ground, carving a trench with his body. Clark's vision swam slightly, and the pain was horrendous.

The power shooting from Isobel/Lana's eyes ceased as she blinked, and Clark gained a momentary reprieve. However, as Isobel raised her hands once again, he felt a thrill of genuine fear. "I'm not really sure what this will do to you, Kryptonian," Isobel said, "But I think it'll be entertaining. And I _was_ right. Magic _is_ the back door in your defenses." Once again, she screamed in Latin, and the violet bolt of power streamed from her palm. She smiled wickedly...

But they had both forgotten about Kendra. With a wordless cry, she launched herself between them, intercepting the bolt before it reached Clark. "No!" he yelled.

For a moment, the world seemed frozen, and even Clark saw things in slow motion. An eerie muffled quiet enveloped the meadow as the purple fire struck Kendra's chest. Then the magic rebounded in a flash of brilliant green, so bright Clark had to shield his eyes. He heard Isobel scream, and he peered through the light in time to see her blasted across the field and out of sight by some kind of explosion.

And then it was over. Isobel was once again out of sight, and Kendra lay still in the center of the field.

Clark staggered to his feet, wiping at healing wounds on his chest. "Kendra, Kendra are you okay?" he asked.

Blearily, she opened her eyes and sat up. "Clark? What happened?"

"You put your life on the line for me for the second time. Thanks. You sure you're alright?"

As he helped her to her feet, she nodded. "You know? I do. I really do. I feel better than I have in a _long _time," she said, her eyebrows furrowing in confusion. Then her expression cleared, and she smiled. "I feel like I could just... fly away!"

She leaped up, intending to make sport of her comment, but as she did so, her entire body burst into emerald flames, and she soared high into the sky, seemingly unable to stop. Fearing that something had happened to her as a result of Isobel's spell, Clark launched himself after her, stripping away his outer clothes and revealing the slightly torn Suit beneath.

Ten thousand feet above the earth, Kendra finally discovered how to hault her headlong ascent, and Clark caught up with her. "I-- Omigod," she whispered. Clark stared at her. Her skin had turned bright green, rings of fire covered some of her body (for which Clark's inherent modesty was rather grateful), and her hair had bounded out of its neat ponytail and was itself a streak of green flames. "I'm... flying," she said quietly.

"Yeah," Clark said, nodding, totally nonplussed. "Um... how?"

"I don't know _Superman_, how do _you_ fly?" she said in frustration. "How should I know how I'm doing this? But... it's seriously cool, whatever it is." With a wicked grin, she turned in the air and streaked in a flash of green across the sky, laughing. "Catch me if you can!"

Clark caught up with her easily, as her speed was significantly slower than his. "Well Clark," she said playfully as he reached her, "I guess I'll have to walk the hero beat too now."

"You should probably give it some time. I mean, who knows if these powers are permanent, and if they're not..." Clark said, leaving her to draw her own conclusions. Kendra nodded. "Makes sense," she muttered. "Well," Clark added, after several moments of silence. "We should probably go back. I mean, I don't know what your schedule's like, but I was supposed to be in class an hour ago."

Kendra laughed. "Oh yeah, that's right. School. I wasn't actually planning on going back today anyway, and with _this_--" She gestured at her blazing body. "--I don't think going back right now is the best idea." Clark nodded.

The two descended towards Smallville, touching back down in the field where they had first encountered Isobel. As Kendra's feet hit the ground, the dry grass beneath her feet burst into flames. "Oops!" she gasped, lifting back into the air. A focused look came onto her face, and with a flash of emerald light, the fire went out and she dropped to the ground.

Her skin was no longer green, but had returned to it's original cream-and-coffee color. Her hair was dark again. The only visible difference in her was that her eyes had become an eerie green color. And she was naked. Clark carefully averted his eyes, turning around quickly.

"Oh," she said in surprise. "I-- uh oh. Well, look, I'm going to, uh, fly home. It wouldn't really do me a whole lot of good to go walking through town with no clothes on. Listen, um... we'll talk later, huh? Try and track Lana... or Isobel, or whoever... down and sort things out with her." Clark nodded, still not looking anywhere near her.

When his superhearing picked up the crackle of flames and a faint whooshing sound, he turned around to see a streak of green across the sky. Shaking his head, he himself lifted off. Going back to school was kind of pointless now. They already knew he hadn't been there-- he was in trouble anyway, and he had too much on his mind to worry about another missed class or two. He might as well go on patrol... and, as Kendra had mentioned, try and find Lana.

That was another thing that was worrying. This witch, this Isobel, seemed to have taken over her body. And magic could hurt him. That in itself was disturbing, but the fact that there was a homicidal witch running around who had alternately kissed him and attacked him was downright frightening.

He soared in circles over the woods beyond Schuster's field, X-raying them closely. Suddenly, he caught sight of a slight frame laying on the ground. He dived in, arms stretched in front of him. Touching down, he saw Lana lying unconscious on the ground. Once again employing his X-ray vision, he found that no bones were broken. Ever so carefully, he lifted her into his arms.

As he rose into the air, her brown eyes fluttered open. "Clark?" she whispered.

"Lana? Are you alright?" he asked. She nodded. "Where am I? What happened? The last thing I remember was opening the box Isobel Thoreau's spell book was shipped in."

Clark sighed to himself. He had a feeling that this was going to be a _long_ day...

--

**A/N: Alright, to all those devoted Fire fans out there (ARE there any besides me?), I know my 'Smallville-izing' of her may have made you very very angry with me. And hey, I get it. The Smallvillizing of charcters annoys me too (remember what they did with Mr. Mxyzlptlk?). **

**So yes, I know Fire's 'real name' is Beatriz de Costa. Yes, I know she's Brazilian, not black. Yes, I know she got her powers from mysticism (and later the metagene compound), not from getting blasted with magic which mixed with kryptonite in her system. **

**But since I had already employed a green-flame-throwing Kendra in 'Revenge of the Meteor Freaks', it seemed kind of stupid not to utilize her when I had the idea to bring Fire in. So, all you possibly-nonexistent Fire fans out there, don't hate on me too much, though I _will_ accept flames (lol)...**


End file.
